


Bird Boy

by Capucine



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff and Angst, Gym class, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4337876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capucine/pseuds/Capucine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bulgaria is an exemplary student, in shape physically and mentally. So, Russia, who is the gym teacher, decides to saddle him with can't-even-kick-a-ball Romania, who he is to get up to speed.</p><p>At first, Bulgaria hates Romania. But as time passes on, he reaches a new understanding of the troubled boy. Circumstances beyond his control may rend their new bond, however, and it's up to Bulgaria to decide whether or not to help Romania.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is from the AU prompt 'You suck at gym class and coach assigned me to be your partner, seriously dude, you can’t even kick a ball' from ar-gyle on Tumblr. Enjoy!
> 
> Aleksander = Bulgaria  
> Vladimir = Romania

Aleksander took gym class about as seriously as the next guy. Well, he ran all the laps, ran suicide, did stretches (he could actually touch his toes), and all that. On kickball day, he wasn't picked last, to say the least.

But today, Coach Braginsky apparently had decided to punish him.

“You'll be showing Vlad here all the ropes,” Coach Braginsky said, looking at papers on his clipboard. He wore hideous white shorts with a red under armor shirt, and a football was tucked under his arm.

Vladimir, one creepo weird guy, wasn't even paying attention. He was too busy cracking every bone in his body.

Aleksander grimaced, saying, “Are you serious, Coach? Vlad can't even kick a ball.”

Coach gave a short laugh, then said, in a dead serious tone, “Do I look like I'm joking?” He looked over at Vladimir, saying, “You don't want to be doing that, Vlad. You'll get arthritis in your twenties, and then what good will you be?”

“I'm a writer,” Vladimir mumbled, “It doesn't matter.”

Coach just laughed. “Of course, Vlad,” he said, as if he was 'special needs.' “Aleks, please help Vladimir do the stretches.”

Aleksander nodded, of course, because what else was he going to do? He did not want to run suicide ten times or some crap like that.

As soon as Coach was gone, he turned to Vlad. “We're going to get you caught up with the rest of the class, got it? You should not be my problem!”

Vladimir popped all his fingers at once. “Yeah, okay.”

“And you're not getting out of any of it, you got it? I've never seen you in gym class before, so I know you're cutting class!”

“Aw, were you looking for me after the first day?” Vladimir gave him a teasing grin. He swung his arms back and forth.

“No, I was not looking for you! Stop that!” Aleksander glared at him, and then pointed to the floor. “You're going to do some stretches, okay? This shouldn't be hard even for you.”

“I'm touched,” Vladimir said, “Really I am. I am lucky to have an aide in class.”

“I am not your aide! Now, do what I do,” Aleksander growled. He sat in a full lotus position, an easy feat since Coach Braginsky had brought in that one Indian yoga guy for about fifteen minutes of every class for the first half of the semester. Then he left them to do it themselves for this half.

Vladimir sat down in a normal Indian-style sort of position, then strained to try to put his feet on top of his thighs. “Good god, how do you do that? Doesn't it hurt?”

Aleksander smirked. “If you'd been coming to class and doing yoga with us, you'd be flexible too.” He shifted out of that position after a few minutes, and then shifted into downward dog. “Can you do this?”

A grunt and the sound of someone collapsing told him all he needed to know.

He sighed. “Okay, I guess we won't do that. Here, how about an easier one? Standing tree. That shouldn't be hard for you, I mean, it's not really _advanced_ yoga.”

He demonstrated the position, easily balancing on one foot.

Vladimir was wobbling, biting into his lip with his foot only on his ankle. In fact, he toppled over into Aleksander, who was fast enough to catch them both, but pretty annoyed about it.

“Vlad, you're pretty pathetic.”

“Yeah, yeah, what are you, my mom?” Vladimir snapped, pulling free of his arms. 

“...your mom says that sort of thing to you?”

“No! Of course not!” Vladimir glared, and sat into another Indian-style position, arms crossed.

Aleksander sighed. “Vlad, you can't do almost anything from that position. You need to stand up, and we'll work on touching our toes, okay?”

A petulant look came onto his face, and Vladimir's shoulders hunched instead of doing what he was told. He didn't even look up.

“Vlad! I don't even want to be doing this, so stop being a baby and get up and exercise with me!” Aleksander snapped, glancing over to see if Coach was watching. God, he didn't want to get in trouble for not getting Vladimir up to speed. It was kind of weird to be separated from the rest of the gym class, but whatever; he would get this over with and be done with Vladimir, soon, hopefully.

Vladimir abruptly stood, said, “I'm going to the bathroom,” and ran (rather slowly and pathetically) to the bathroom.

He didn't come out until the period was over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the second day training up Vladimir. Aleksander just wants to get him fit and out of the way, but Vlad seems determined to avoid exercise. Will a clash of wills ensue?

Vlad was an ass the next day too. He came into gym class bundled in sweat pants, the thick kind, and a sweatshirt that said something about a 5k run for some cause. As if he had ever run that much.

“Okay, Vlad? You're going to listen to me today, right?” Aleksander said, arms crossed over his chest.

“If you're not an asshole today!” Vlad replied brightly, a cheesy grin on his face. It quickly was swapped out for a scowl. He seemed already tired by walked across the entire gym, and sat down to catch his breath.

“Oh my god, are you that pathetic?” Aleksander groaned, dragging his hands across his face and wondering how in hell he'd ended up stuck with Vladimir.

“See, that's more of the asshole thing. I was thinking you could try, I don't know, _not_ doing that,” Vlad said, resting his hands on his knees. He looked tired, and that was just pathetic again.

But Aleksander sighed. He wasn't going to get Vladimir up to speed by reminding him how incredibly pathetic he was. He wasn't going to get that by reminding him he should have gone to the damn classes and not skipped out on them either. Instead, he sat down on the floor, and pressed the soles of his feet together. 

Vlad followed, though a little hesitantly.

“This is really simple, supposed to help your hip joints or something,” Aleksander sighed, and he sort of flapped his bent knees up and down. He remembered this being called a 'butterfly' in class, but he was pretty sure that wasn't the correct name.

Vlad did it, slower than Aleksander, but still actually trying. Well, that much was good. “Yeah, okay. I've got really fucked up hip joints.”

Aleksander rolled his eyes, sure this was sarcasm. “Fine. Now, we're going to do... not a split, per se, I forget what it's called... you just sit there and spread your legs as far as you can. Good for flexibility.”

Vlad looked suspiciously at him. “I think you want to see my package.”

Spluttering, Aleksander snapped, “Vlad, stop being gross! No one wants to see your package, just do the stretch!” Aleksander spread his legs open, able to stretch pretty far.

At seeing him do it, Vlad shrugged and did it too, though he had far less flexibility. When Aleksander started to lean forward, pressing his stomach against the floor, though, he balked. “I can't do that!”

“Course you can. Or, anyway, you can try to,” Aleksander said, arms draped on the floor.

“God, what are you made of, rubber?” Vlad complained, but with the shift of his body and the sound of a sort of groan, it was clear he was doing it too. Not stretched nearly as far, and as Aleksander took a peek, he could see him kind of hunched over with his palms on the floor. Vlad had probably never stretched a day in his life.

“Now grab your foot, like this,” Aleksander said, easily able to reach his foot and practically rest his head against his knee.

“Again, did Rubberman abandon you at birth?” Vlad muttered, but he barely grasped his toes and sort of awkwardly hunched over his knee.

They did the other leg next.

That was when Aleksander decided it was time to stand. “Come on. Up.”

“I don't want to stand,” Vlad whined, and good god, he was so lazy! What kind of person thought the effort put into _standing_ was too much? Someone who endlessly played video games or like, slept all day or something.

He could picture Vlad sprawled on a bed, playing some sort of shooter game while a piece of greasy pizza hung from his mouth. It made Aleksander unreasonably angry.

“Just stand up, Vlad,” he said irritably.

Vlad let out another groan, but slowly pushed himself into a standing position. “Yeah, okay, fine, slave-master.”

Aleksander ignored it, and reached down to touch his toes. “Come on, this is easy.”

“Yeah, cause I'm just not trying fucking hard enough,” Vlad grumbled to himself, but he stretched over. He was woefully short of touching his toes, and he seemed to be straining not to bend his knees.

“You know,” Aleksander said, unable to keep himself from saying it, “If you'd just come to gym class, you wouldn't be so out of shape.”

At that, Vlad stood straight up. “Yeah, that's enough asshole for today. Goodbye.”

Aleksander stood in his way this time, more than fast enough to block him. “Nope. Not going to happen this time. You're going to exercise this whole period, got it?” The sooner he got him into shape, the sooner he would be out of his hair.

Vlad glared. “Leave me alone,” he said, trying to step around Aleksander.

“Touch your toes,” Aleksander commanded, still blocking him.

Vlad clenched his teeth tightly, looking beyond him as if searching for a savior. When he didn't see one, he slowly turned back. And, woefully slowly, he leaned down and tried to touch his toes.

“Let your arms swing a bit, it helps,” Aleksander said, putting his hand on his back. He hoped this period would pass quickly.

Little did he know it was about to get interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a drastic turn in gym class.

Vlad still couldn’t touch his toes, no surprise there. He also refused to put in much effort, it seemed, fingers a long way from his feet.

“Come on. It’s okay if you feel a little discomfort, you know,” Aleksander insisted, hand still on his back, pressing just a little.

“Oh, is that why you have your hand on my back?” Vlad grunted, and he started to straighten up again.

Aleksander pressed against his back, saying, “No, go back down. Up a little, then press harder.”

Vlad was seemingly trembling already. Which was just ridiculous and needed to be pushed past; it was a sign of weak muscles that needed exercise, in Aleksander's opinion. But Vlad started to straighten up again, saying, “I tried as hard as I could--”

“No. I'm in charge, keep trying,” Aleksander insisted, sick of seeing Vlad wimp out on everything. God, there was no way he was going to get strong if he didn't try, how did he not see that?

But Vlad straightened instead, glaring at Aleksander. “We can do something else now, something sitting!”

God, he was so pale. Did he not go outside or something? The idea of Vlad staying inside, skipping school and not just gym class to play video games, presented itself in Aleksander's mind, and he felt a righteous fury.

“ _This_ is why you're so pathetic, Vlad! You do absolutely nothing, and when it gets even slightly hard, you want to stop! Well, _I_ am getting you into shape, whether you like it or not!”

“I'm not pathetic, you asshole!” Vlad snapped back, “It isn't slightly hard, it's very hard, and--”

“If you'd come to fucking gym class, it wouldn't very hard at all! You are a loser, plain and simple, and trust me, when you get kicked out of school for such abysmal attendance and probably grades too, no one's going to miss you at all, unless you're late in getting their burger ready!”

It occurred to him he'd gone too far when Vlad's fist collided with the side of his nose.

But surprisingly, it was not him who screamed: it was Vlad. He clutched his hand, face incredibly pale and already beading with sweat.

For a moment, Aleksander had a flash of worry. Then, he rubbed the aching spot on his face, saying, 'Seriously? I think you hurt yourself more than me.”

Vlad let out a startling sob, holding his hand to his chest. “I want to see the nurse!”

“Oh my god,” Aleksander groaned, though uncertainly. If Vlad was actually hurt, there was a problem... but how could he be hurt enough to need the nurse if Aleksander didn't? And yet, it really didn't seem fake...

But then, wouldn't Vlad try to pull something like this? “You can't see the nurse.”

“I need to see the nurse!” Vlad insisted, voice trembling with apparent pain. Maybe he'd practiced that one a lot.

Aleksander still wasn't sure. “No.”

“You asshole, you fucking asshole, fuck you you shit-Nazi!” Vlad went running in the opposite direction, even though it wasn't the most direct route to the nurse. 

It was easy to catch up. “Vlad, this is ridiculous, you're not hurt!” He grabbed onto Vlad, and to his surprise, lifted him right off his feet.

The guy was like a plastic bag with a pack of gum at the bottom.

Vlad started screaming at that, and this time, Coach Braginski came over, a deep scowl on his face.

“What is going on?”

“Vlad's pretending he's hurt to go to the nurse!”

But rather than react like Vlad was a trouble student trying to pull another one over the Coach's eyes, he looked severely to Aleksander. “Put him down, Aleks.”

Aleksander let go like he was holding a bomb, or a tampon.

Vlad burst into full sobs, and the Coach asked, “Where are you hurt? Show me.”

Much to Aleksander's shock and embarrassment, when Vlad held up his hand, it was deeply purpling on several fingers. It looked like Aleksander had viciously attacked Vlad, and he felt immediate horror at how it might seem.

“I didn't do that! He punched me in the face!”

“Cause you're a fucking ass!” Vlad shouted back at him. By now, Aleksander, ever a private introvert, was realizing they had quite the audience, as absolutely no one was doing their exercises now.

The Coach carefully examined his hand, clicking his tongue. “You've probably broken your fingers. Don't you know you can't do such foolhardy things?”

Vlad didn't reply.

Coach Braginski sighed, and nodded to his sister, Katya, who was his co-teacher and typically managed the girls. “Katya, please take over the boys as well. Have them all play volleyball or something.”

He didn't explain anything to Aleksander, who was incredibly confused.

Instead, he just took Vladimir out of the gym and presumably to the nurse's office.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aleksander finds out what's up...or some vague version of it, anyway. Vlad's not so good at sharing.

Vladimir showed up the next day, sporting what appeared to be a purple cast. It was the sort that held his fingers straight out except for his thumb, which was curled around a sheet of paper.

He glared on seeing Aleksander, though started a little when Coach Braginski put his hand on his back, pushing him forwards.

“Now, now, Bochinsky, I think you owe Aleksander an apology.”

“What?” Aleksander said dumbly.

“What?! I broke my fingers punching his face!” Vladimir positively yelped. He was wide-eyed, obvious thoughts that this idea was a miscarriage of justice flashing through.

“Yes, exactly: punching his face. You attacked him, even if you ended up the worse out of the bargain,” Coach Braginsky said solemnly.

It looked almost like it was physically hurting Vlad; he crossed his arms as best as he could, cast awkwardly jutting out of the cross. “S...sorry, asshole.”

Aleksander raised his eyebrows. “Not sure if insulting someone when you apologize negates it...”

“And you apologize now, Aleksander.”

Aleksander gaped at Coach Braginsky. “What'd I do?”

“Frankly, Vladimir is not a violent person, and I haven't seem him worked up enough to punch someone for no reason. I think it's reasonable to assume you did something as well...especially considering I saw you a few times when you were working together.” Coach Braginsky was giving him that look that made Aleksander think of a calculating, grand chessmaster.

He swallowed. “Okay. Fine. Sorry.”

Coach Braginsky beamed. “All right! Now that that's worked out, I would like you both to get back to work!”

“What?” Aleksander nearly squawked. “What about us makes you think we should keep working together?”

“Yeah, he's an ass! I don't want to work with him!”

Coach Braginsky laughed a little. “To be frank with both of you...There are only a few people in my class who I would trust with rehabilitating someone, and they are all on my basketball team...except Aleksander. I can't waste their time when we have a championship to win this year; our shot is better than ever.”

Aleksander gaped. The Coach couldn't be serious...could he?

“Anyway, I trust that you won't try to hurt each other anymore. Both of you have learned your lesson, yes?”

Both nodded, a bit stupidly.

Coach Braginsky nodded, saying, “Then carry on.” Then he left.

Vladimir glared at Aleksander the second he was gone, piece of paper fluttering as he threw his hand out and snapped, “We're not doing things your way anymore, got it? Cause your way made me break my stupid fingers!”

“Uh, you're the one who punched me, remember? I didn't tell you to do that,” Aleksander said, “And what's the piece of paper for?”

Vlad huffed, snapping his teeth together. “It's just some shit I wrote. Poems. That's all.”

“Oh.” Aleksander scratched the back of his head, and let out a sigh. “Okay. You have to tell me: why did your fingers break on my face and I didn't even—well, I do have a small bruise, but...”

Vladimir stared at him. Just legitimately stared at him for several seconds. “...didn't Coach Braginsky tell you?”

Aleksander shook his head. “Uh, I don't think he did...?”

Vladimir pressed his uncast hand against his eye. “Oh my god...Ugh. You're supposed to help get up to speed cause I haven't even been in school for like, a year? Yeah. Eleven months, two weeks, that's it.”

“Why not? Are you a delinquent? Were you in jail?” Aleksander asked, pressing his palms against his shorts as he saw Vladimir's face darken in anger.

“No! I am not a delinquent! I was just...” he looked away, “I was sick. That's all.”

Oh. Oh! Cancer or something, Aleksander realized. His immediate assumption was that it was an embarrassing part, like, he wasn't sure, genitals or something. He just nodded quickly. “Okay. Okay, that's fine.”

“Yeah,” Vladimir mumbled, and then he frowned over at Aleksander. “Can we just get started?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Aleksander said, and they both sat down on the floor and started with that butterfly thing.

They were quiet a moment, and then Aleksander piped up. “Uh...I'm sorry. Actually sorry, this time. I shouldn't have assumed you were just lazy or whatever.”

“Yeah, okay,” Vlad said, flapping his legs. 

They managed to get through some gentle exercises, this time Aleksander taking care to go at Vlad's pace, to not push him too hard.

At the end, when gym period was over, Vlad lingered a moment, and then tapped him on the shoulder. “Um...I'm sorry too. For real. That's all.”

And he turned and hurried for his next class.

Aleksander watched him, and wondered about this strange classmate of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was harder than I thought it would be to continue it. Weird, huh? Short chapters, so it should be easy...*shrug* I hope you guys liked it. I know people are still interested, so I wanted to update. I've kinda been on a superhero kick lately, so it's not quite my MO lately, but I do like this story, and intend to eventually finish it. :)


End file.
